Secret's
by Rowen-Bells
Summary: Alistair thought he knew everything about the woman he loved. But after going to Denerim to challenge Loghain, he learned how wrong he was... *One-Shot* Rated M. Reviews are greatly appreciated!


**Secrets**

The large chamber was quiet except for the pacing of Alistair's feet against the stone. More than once, Arl Eamon had to tell him to stop but it didn't seem to do any good. He would stop, sure, but then start right back up after a few moments. He was nervous. But of course he was nervous! Eamon made it clear that he intended to put him forth as the king of Ferelden. Something he was not sure he wanted. And even if he did want it . . . he had not been given the chance to really think about it. A couple days simply was not enough time to make that kind of life changing decision. A part of him had always known that this day might someday come, that his father's blood running through him would force him to do things he was less than thrilled with. But . . . he guessed that after Duncan had conscripted him, he had let down that guard and had dared to believe that as a Grey Warden, his parentage would no longer come back to bite him in the ass.

How so very wrong he had been. He should have known the moment Cailan had died at Ostagar that this was inevitable. But even then . . . he had fooled himself into believing that Eamon would take the throne. Not throw it at him. He was pacing again. Eamon seemed to give up on telling him to stop, and Alistair wasn't sure he would have listened anyway. He was sweating under the armor he wore, and not for the first time he placed the cool steel of his gauntlet against his sweltering face to cool it. No one spoke as they waited. Alistair looked at his companions, all of who seemed to be handling their nerves a lot better than he was. Wynne was leaning against a wooden post, looking just as grandmotherly as she did the first day he had met her. Well not completely. The time it took to get here was evident in the newly formed lines upon her face, and he wondered what his own face might look like. Noticing his gaze, Wynne smiled reassuringly at him. He smiled back and began pacing once more.

Oghren was sitting on the floor, his two-handed maul resting on his lap. It would have been easy to believe him asleep if it weren't for the fact that he chose that very moment to belch loudly. Alistair couldn't help but to chuckle as Wynne and Eamon sighed in unison. Oghren was . . . well . . . not necessarily a breath of _fresh_ air, but he was a breath of something. No matter what battles they endured, Oghren always remained the same. He had not treated Alistair differently after his birthright was revealed, and continued teasing him just as he had from day one. If he didn't think it would embarrass the dwarf, Alistair would have thanked him for helping him to keep his sanity through it all. The ale Oghren supplied him didn't hurt with the "sanity keeping" either. With the exception of their entourage, the only other people here were the guards by the heavy wooden door. Both looking incredibly bored.

As Alistair turned he was brought up short by _her. _She was looking up at him with her impossibly bright green eyes and a sympathetic smile. Her perfectly arched brow cocked slightly and he knew automatically what she was thinking . . . it was time to really stop pacing. He smiled sheepishly and shrugged. He thought back to the day he had met her at Ostagar. Had he been told then that he would fall so helplessly in love with her, he would have scoffed. But here she was, the absolute love of his life. Her dark raven hair framed her face as it cascaded over her shoulders, and he couldn't stop himself from reaching forward and gently tucking a strand behind her ear, trailing an armored finger down her neck. He still couldn't believe how it had happened. How _they_ had happened. Leigha knew what he had been trained as before, but that didn't stop her. But then . . . he knew what she was and that had not stopped him either. And so it came to be that the ex-templar and the mage, both grey wardens, found in each other the love that neither had known they sought.

But would it last? Now there was the question that plagued him. He wanted more than anything to be able to answer that with a yes. In fact, only days ago he _would_ have answered that with a yes. But that was before Eamon had dropped this whole "king" thing on him. If he were to take the throne as Eamon wanted him to, he wasn't sure their love would be . . . _allowed._ As he had before, Alistair buried that thought, refusing to think about it any longer. Like so many things, he hoped this whole thing would go away. He was sure of one thing however, a future without her by his side was not a future he wanted to be a part of.

Through the metal of his armor, Alistair could feel the heat of her hand as she pressed it against his chest. It was funny the way she had enchanted it. He could barely feel a blow from a genlock, but her hand . . . it was as if she were touching his bare skin. He smiled down at her and she returned the smile, captivating him as she had done so many times before. Maker's breath she was beautiful. More than beautiful. Snaking an arm around her small waist, he frowned. He just didn't see how her mage's robes provided the armor and protection she needed. He knew they did, but all the same as he pulled her close he felt as if he could crush her. She let go of a breath that Alistair hadn't known she'd been holding when he pressed his lips to her forehead. He nearly pulled back to see if she was okay, but noticed a sidelong glance from Eamon that stopped him. He knew that Eamon did not approve of their relationship, though he had never come right out and said it. The look he was giving them now made Alistair pull her in tighter, hugging her protectively until Eamon looked away. When she pulled back and looked up at him curiously, he just smiled and shook his head.

She took a step back, squeezing his hand as she went, and then turned toward the door expectantly. He already missed her against him and had to refrain from pulling her back. He knew why she had pulled away though, and he too turned towards the door. They would arrive within minutes. He had learned early on that she somehow sensed these things. He guessed it had to do with her magical ability. She had sensed Morrigan's approach back in the Korcari Wild's as well. From his peripheral he noticed that Wynn was standing straight now, and even Oghren was getting up off the floor. Only Eamon seemed to not notice anything, and he gave a slight jump as the heavy wooden doors slammed open.

Alistair had to still his hand from reaching for his blade as Loghain walked in, flanked by two others. His anger began building with every step he took. It wasn't fair that that treacherous bastard walked free when Duncan . . . . No, he dared not think of Duncan now. He was not sure his resolve would hold. Instead he looked at those who joined him. On his right was the captain of his guard and on the left he was surprised to see Arl Howe. Howe was the Arl of Amaranthine and the Teryn of Highever. He was a thin weasley little man with a jagged scar on his cheek. He wasn't sure why the Arl would be accompanying Loghain, but he didn't think it was good. The fact that any of the nobles would show this kind of support for him boded ill for Eamon's attempt to turn them against him. He cast a glance at Eamon and saw that he too was watching Howe with curiosity. He turned to look at Leigha and froze. She too was watching Howe, but not with the curiosity that he and Eamon held, but with such anger and contempt that even he cowered back a little. He had never seen her look so livid. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but he thought she was shaking.

Alistair cast another glance at Howe, who didn't seem to notice the absolute death glare he was receiving. He wore a smug smile that he cast at no one but Eamon. In fact, no one seemed to notice Leigha. Well . . . that wasn't completely true. As Alistair eyes found Wynne, he saw she was watching Leigha with worry and dismay. He knew he was missing something. And he knew by the look Wynne was giving her that she knew whatever it was that he was missing. But what was it? How could Leigha possibly know Howe to have such disdain for him? He frowned as Wynne threw a nervous glance his way. He heard Eamon speak and Loghain respond, but he was too busy watching Leigha to really hear the words that had been said. Her body was definitely shaking now. He threw another look at Howe and was surprised to see that he was now looking at Leigha with shock. His mouth hung open slightly before closing slowly, his lips turning upward into a smile. Or was it a sneer? Alistair couldn't tell. It was all it took however, for hell to break loose.

Leigha lunged forward with Alistair close on her heels, but she did not attack Howe as he thought she was going to. Instead, she stopped a couple feet away from him and pointed at him, glaring at Loghain.

"This man slaughtered my family!" She screeched. "I demand blood rights!"

"What is this?" Eamon asked with surprise, turning from Howe to Leigha and then to Alistair who, with wide eyes, shook his head. He had no idea what was going on.

Everyone was looking at Leigha now. Alistair was . . . confused would be to put it lightly. How could Howe possibly have murdered her family. Hadn't she told him that she had grown up in the Circle? That she could not remember her family? From behind him, Alistair could hear Wynne sighing. He looked back at her, silently begging to know what was going on, but she only shook her head and watched Leigha. Howe's laughter caught his attention. It was such a spiteful laugh, that Alistair almost drew his blade.

"You have no blood rights," Howe spit at Leigha. "And from what I am to understand, mages have no family."

"I did!" Leigha screamed with outrage. "But you . . . you murdered them! I demand that I get-"

"Enough!" Loghain said, stepping between Leigha and Howe. "Eamon, what is this _mage_ babbling about?"

"I don't know," Eamon frowned turning to Leigha, who had eyes for no one but Howe. "Leigha?"

"I don't babble." Leigha sneered, still glaring at Howe. "And this man murdered my family when I was fourteen. He was intent on leaving no survivors. He struck at night."

"And who was this family that you seem to believe he murdered?" Loghain asked, almost bored. No. Not bored, Alistair noted. _Trying_ to sound bored. There was an underlying note in there. Did he know of what she spoke?

"You would know them Loghain," Leigha said in such a deadly tone it sent shivers running through Alistair. "My father was the Teryn of Highever. Bryce Cousland."

Alistair was in shock. He had heard of the Cousland murders. He had been sixteen at the time when word had been passed around. Eamon had visited him in the chantry and had told him of it. They had been told that Orlais had attacked the Cousland castle leaving only two survivors . . . Arl Howe, who had been visiting at the time and had nearly died trying to help his long time friend, and one of Howe's own guards. But the entire Cousland line had been lost. Alistair knew that Teryn Cousland had had children. A son and daughter, but he had never known their names. He looked at Leigha. Whether she was purposely avoiding his gaze, or just too focused on Howe, he wasn't sure.

"Yes, I thought you looked familiar," Howe said with false sweetness, surprising everyone with his confirmation. Alistair thought back to the startled look Howe had given Leigha before, and knew that he had recognized her sooner. This was just an act. "Leigha Cousland. I thought you died when Orlais attacked your family's castle. How _nice_ to see that you live after all."

"Orlais did no such thing!" She screamed, advancing on him as if Loghain was not standing in her way. Alistair reached forward and placed his hand on her shoulder, but she did not seem to notice it. "You and your men attacked! I was there! I watched helplessly as you slaughtered my family one by one!"

"Dear girl," Howe laughed placatingly. "You must have been knocked out. I tried _saving_ your family."

"LIES!" She screamed, her hair whipping behind her though there was no wind. "I will cut out your tongue for such lies!"

At this, Loghain's captain of the guard stepped forward. "You are either very bold or very stupid to threaten the Arl in front of witness's mage."

"And you would be very foolish to get in my way," Leigha snapped at the captain.

"I find it curious, however," Howe went on, cutting off the Captain's retort before she could so much as utter the first word. "That at fourteen you were still at home . . . what with you being a mage. Should your family not have sent you to the Circle long before then?"

"You find that _curious_, do you?" Alistair couldn't help but ask, stepping forward protectively. "Not the fact that you are being accused of murdering a noble family . . . but the fact that said noble family had a mage for a daughter?"

Howe smiled at him. "Hiding mages from the circle . . . that's illegal you know."

Alistair snorted and rolled his eyes. "You don't say?"

"Besides," Leigha chimed in, glaring at him. "How would you have known that I was a mage at fourteen, Howe? That is . . . unless you saw me cast a spell? Oh and how is your face these days? That scar seemed to heal . . . rather jaggedly actually."

Alistair watched as Howe traced the scar on his face with his finger, almost without realizing it, and wondered what had happened. What had Leigha done to cause it? He sighed heavily. He didn't know what to make of this. Any of it! He kept going back to the things she had told him before; grew up in the circle, had no family. Why had she lied to him? He had no reason not to believe Leigha. Howe himself had said it, she was Leigha Cousland . . . but to believe that Howe murdered her family and then blamed it on Orlais would be . . . . Why? For what reason? Alistair cast a desperate glance at Eamon, who seemed to be absorbing it all. Finally Eamon stepped forward.

"Leigha," he said. "What you are suggesting . . . that Arl Howe murdered the Couslands . . ."

"My _family_," Leigha spit, turning on Eamon. "And I am NOT suggesting it. It is a fact!"

"But why?" Eamon asked.

"Yes," Howe asked with a hateful smile that Alistair despised. "Why would I do such a thing to your father, my friend? And if this concerned you so, why not come forth with it long ago?"

"Don't you dare call my father your friend." She spit as her body glowed red.

"Leigha," Wynne said with a tone of warning, but Leigha seemed to not hear. Alistair noticed that Wynne had stepped forward and was flanking Leigha's left side.

"And would you find it so hard to hear that he is a greedy bastard?" Leigha asked Eamon, throwing her hands in the air. "That perhaps he wanted Highever for himself? He _is _the Teryn there now, is he not? And look who he runs with! A coward of a man who left our king to die!"

"You go too far!" Loghain spit. "How dare you-"

"I will dare more than that if I must!" Leigha screamed at him. "This man will pay for his crimes against my family if I have to kill him myself!"

"Must I remind you that as a mage you have no rights?" Howe spit. "That even if what you were saying was true, it would not matter. Are you to tell me that everyone is to believe the word of a mage over mine? I think not."

"I do," Alistair said defiantly. It was crazy. Impossible even. But he would stand behind Leigha on this.

"Yeah, me too." Oghren chimed in with a shrug. "If I have to decide between a mage and a nug humper like you, Ima go with the mage."

"Well, then I guess it's good that your opinion matter's not dwarf," Howe said, casting a look of deepest disgust at Oghren. "As for you, Alistair, your claims to be the bastard son of the king are just as bad as her lies."

Before Alistair could reply, Leigha drew her staff and pounded it on the ground.

"Enough! I'm done discussing this and it's time for you to die," Leigha spit.

"Oh?" Howe mused, eyeing her staff. "And how so? Do you intend to kill me here and now?"

"Yes." She smiled.

Before anyone could do much more, a powerful force radiated from Leigha's body knocking everyone backward. Alistair heard as Oghren, Wynne, and Eamon cried out - Eamon in surprise, Wynne in alarm for Leigha to stop, and Oghren with a few choice words. Alistair's own breath was knocked out of him as he crashed to the floor. As he tried to sit up, he felt Wynne's hand on his arm. The non-existent wind that had whipped back Leigha's hair earlier was now very much existent, pounding them down and making it hard to move. He could see Wynne's lips moving, but could not make out her words for the howling in his ears. He turned a terrified eye to Leigha, who was standing there like the eye of the storm. Howe was with her, held in the air by a blue glow, a grimace of pain stretched across his face. He could have been screaming, but if there was a sound the wind silenced it. This was not happening! Alistair could only imagine what was going through Leigha's mind, but if she killed Howe now . . . they would hang her. Regardless of whether her reasons were justified. That thought cut through him like a thousand knives. He could not allow it.

Pulling away from Wynne, he got slowly to his feet. He would have to stop her.

"Leigha!" He screamed at her above the wind storm. Another blast shot from her and he found himself on his back once more. He looked at Wynne, who was still on her stomach. "Do something!" He shouted, though he was not sure she could hear him. She shook her head, as her lips moved. He could not hear her, but the words she spoke were evident. "Too powerful."

Wynne reached for Alistair, and he took her hand pulling her to him. It took much effort, fighting against the wind, but soon her lips were inches from his ear.

"You. You must stop her." Wynne said heavily.

Alistair shook his head. "I . . . I can't! She won't let me near her!"

"You must!" Wynne shouted in his ear.

"But how!" He asked desperately.

"By the only means in which _you_ can." she said gravely pressing something small and cool into his hands.

Alistair looked down at the small glass vial of lyrium in his hand and suddenly knew of what Wynne spoke. He could stop Leigha. He had always had that ability. Duncan had had him continue this training, so it was not completely foreign to him. But still, he loathed the idea of actually doing it. _Especially_ to her.

"You must do it now!" Wynne shouted. "There is not much time left!"

Alistair looked up at woman he loved more than life. She was shrouded in a bright reddish-orange glow, looking eerily as if she were on fire. Howe seemed to be withering with every passing second and he knew what Wynne meant by there not being much time left. He had no choice. His face became set with grim determination as he uncorked the vial and pressed it to his lips, draining it all. He immediately started coughing as his body tried to naturally reject the liquid, but he managed to keep it down and braced against the burning sensation it sent coursing through his body. It had been so long since he had had lyrium, but within seconds he felt the change it had caused. He knew what he had to do now. He stopped, only briefly, to worry about how what he was going to do might change things between him and Leigha before he pushed it aside and, fighting against the wind once more, managed to get to his feet again. This time, however, he did not approach her. Instead he drew into himself, allowing the lyrium to flood his being and slamming the mental barrier down hard around him. He could see as another blast shot out from Leigha but this time it did not affect him. He spoke only a few words, but they were all he needed as he directed his energy towards her, surrounding her with it. Soon he was engulfed in her own energy as he drained her mana from her – just as the templar's had taught him. He could feel her anger and rage. Her guilt and sadness. And then her shock.

It was all over.

Howe crashed to the ground, and Alistair ran forward to catch Leigha as she swayed on her feet and then fell backwards. Her eyes fluttered up to him only briefly before closing, but he saw in them the anger and betrayal she felt toward him at that very moment. He wanted to apologize, but he could not bring himself to. Not because she was unconscious and would not hear him anyway, but because if he had not done what he had . . . the outcome would have been so much worse. With a swift motion, he lifted her into his arms and turned to the others who wore expressions ranging from shock, to fear, to anger. Behind him, he heard Howe groan. Slowly, everyone got to their feet, looking unsure of whether to believe what had just happened. The captain of the guard quickly went to Howe and helped him to his feet.

Loghain was the first to speak.

"Arrest her!"

Oghren, Wynne, and to Alistair's surprise, Eamon, quickly stood in front of him, shielding him and Leigha who was still unconscious in his arms. Oghren had his maul drawn, ready to strike down anyone who came forward and Alistair felt a swell of kinship with the dwarf. Wynne quickly placed a protective barrier around them all, but did not put away her staff. Only Eamon kept his sword sheathed.

"You dare protect her?" Loghain asked vehemently. "After she attacked Arl Howe?"

"The Arl lives," Eamon said calculative. "She has been stopped. No harm is done."

"No harm?" Howe choked out, stepping forward. "She . . . she nearly killed me!"

"A fate no worse than you killing her family." Eamon said flatly.

"So you believe this . . . this mage?" Loghain spit.

"I do." Eamon said. "But I am no fool to the laws, Loghain. Nor are you. I understand that my belief in her words is not enough to pardon her. What she did will only be forgivable after it has been decided by others on whether she speaks the truth. Until then, you will not touch her. Your rule has been challenged, and thus you hold no rights over her."

"She is a mage," Loghain spit. "A mage who has just attempted murder."

"And you were once the kings _trusted_ captain of the guard," Eamon retorted. "Who evidently _did_ get away with murder. And so did, it seems, your companion."

"She's not just a mage!" Alistair stated annoyed, and all eyes turned to him. "She is a Grey Warden."

With that Alistair turned and walked toward the door, Leigha still in his arms. He had no more interest in anything anyone had to say. The only thing that was important now was getting Leigha away from here, back to Eamon's estate here in Denerim where she could recover. Before he had taken more than a few steps however, the guards at the door blocked his path with their weapons drawn. Alistair watched them speculatively, before turning to look back at Eamon. Eamon in turn looked at Loghain.

"Let them pass." Loghain said with quiet anger.

"But Ser!" One of the guards began.

"I said let them pass!" Loghain shouted, and then turned to Eamon. "This will be decided at the Landsmeet. And Eamon? I assure you that once you and your pathetic attempts fail, I will hang you all."

Alistair did not stay long enough to hear more.

It was a few hours before Leigha began to stir. Alistair, who had only left her side once to change out of his armor, took her hand in his. Her eyes had not yet opened, so Alistair stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, waiting. It shouldn't be too much longer now. As he waited he thought of all the remarks he _should_ have said to Morrigan. Upon his return with an unconscious Leigha in his arms, he had quickly relayed what had happened to those who had stayed behind. While Sten, Leliana, Zevran, and Shale all seemed to understand that Alistair had had no choice in his means to stop her, Morrigan disagreed vehemently. She accused him of forced domination and insisted he had no right to make that sort of decision for her. He had finally snapped at her to shut her mouth before he decided to smite her as well. This had infuriated her to the point that she had drawn her staff. Surprisingly it was Sten who had stepped in between them to cool things off. And by cool things off, he meant that Sten had merely shouted that it was done and to drop it. But Morrigan seemed to listen and had stalked off.

A small groan escaped Leigha's lips, and Alistair leaned over her just as her eye's fluttered open. He smiled as she focused on him.

"You're awake," he breathed.

The minutes passed before she finally responded. Jerking her hand away, she pushed herself across the bed away from Alistair, glaring angrily at him. He did not attempt to stop her. He remembered all too well the look she had given him right after he had smited her. He knew that she would possibly wake still angry. He sighed and adjusted himself on the bed.

"Leigha," he said softly.

"Get out." She spit in response, before Alistair could say more.

He had not planned on this and he was hurt that she was dismissing him before he had a chance to even explain himself. This was absurd! She had to know why he did what he did! Alistair looked pleadingly at her. "Leigha, please listen."

"GET OUT!" She screamed, startling him.

"Fine." He said, getting to his feet and running his hand roughly through his hair. Anger was replacing his feeling of rejection. As he reached the door he stopped and turned around incensed. "Fine, I'll go!" He spit. "But if you're expecting an apology you're not gonna get one. I'm not sorry for saving your life Leigha! I won't apologize for that! If you had killed Howe . . . they would have killed you! And then what? Huh? Oh yeah, they would have had to kill me too, cause I would have died trying to protect you!" Alistair ran his hand roughly through his hair once more, trying to calm himself. His next words were spoken much softer, but not without spite. "I love you too much to let you get yourself killed Leigha . . . even if you don't love me enough to tell me the truth about your past."

Pain flashed through her eyes at his words, and he wondered if he had gone too far. He probably had, but he was too angry to take them back. Turning on his heel, he stalked from the room and slammed the door behind him. He meant to go to the room that had been provided to him when they first arrived, but he didn't make it more than two feet from her door. Leaning against the stone wall, he slumped to the floor. He was tired . . . and confused . . . and angry. Why hadn't she told him? And how could she possibly be mad at him? It's not like he could have done more than act as shocked as he had only hours ago, but still . . . he had told her everything about him! It was then that the stupid nagging tone in the back of his mind reminded him that he had kept his birthright a secret as well, but he quieted it with the fact that he had at least _eventually_ told her. But then, he had told her out of necessity . . . because he was sure that she would have found out anyway. Could he say with certainty that he would have still told her if he were positive that she would have never found out otherwise? To his dismay, he realized that he could not answer that question with honesty.

"So she's angry with you still?"

Alistair looked up to see Wynne standing above him. She looked as tired as he felt. Giving a dry, humorless laugh, he nodded in response.

"She, um . . . she made me get out."

"Yes," Wynne said, lowering herself slowly to the floor. "We all heard. You should know that Morrigan feels her rage is justified and would like you to know that if Leigha would like you hexed, she would be more than willing to oblige."

"Noted." Alistair said with a nod of his head. "And if you could let Morrigan know that she could go suck a-"

"Alistair!" Wynne cried out in shock. Looking at her, he saw that she was smiling though. "No, I don't think I will suggest Morrigan go sucking on anything right now. And such talk is too much for this old woman."

Alistair laughed. "Old woman my left toe. You're just as sprightly as Leliana."

"You are too sweet," Wynne smiled. "But let us not pretend that we didn't hear these old bones creak loudly as I sat down just now."

Alistair laughed again, but then frowned just as quickly. "She hates me Wynne . . . Leigha, she . . ."

"No she doesn't," Wynne responded softly. "She's just . . . in shock still."

"You should have seen the way she looked at me . . . as if I had completely betrayed her trust." He sighed, dropping his head in his hands.

"I _have_ seen the way she looks at you Alistair," Wynne said with a smile. "Several times. She loves you. She's just upset now . . . it will pass." And then she sighed. "Let me ask you, when you learned to become a templar, did they ever once teach you what it was like for a mage to be smited?"

Alistair thought about it, though he already knew the answer. "Not really. Just that it would be unpleasant for both the templar and the mage, but that it was sometimes necessary."

"Oh, I don't disagree that it sometimes is," Wynne said softly. "But I am also not surprised to hear that they did not tell you more. Whether it is because they don't know, or don't care is what worries me however."Alistair looked curiously at her, and she smiled sadly. "When a mage is smited . . . it feels like . . . like all the life is being drained from our body. Like we're dying."

Alistair's eyes widened as guilt flooded him. He didn't like the idea that he had made Leigha feel that way. No, that couldn't be true. "But it's just the mana that get's drained! How can . . . how can _that_ feel like death?"

"Alistair," Wynne said patiently. "A person is born a mage. It is not something they choose to be. Our mana runs through our veins, as much a part of who we are as our very own blood is. So when someone _removes_ it . . ."

"But you told me to!" Alistair said desperately. "If you knew this, why would you have me do it?"

"As I said before," Wynne responded. "Sometimes it is necessary."

"I . . . I guess I understand." Alistair said gravely. "Maker's breath, she's gonna be angry at me forever."

Wynne laughed. "Forever is a long time. No, she will move past this. The real question now is: How long will you be angry at her?"

Alistair thought about this for a moment. He could not deny that he was angry with Leigha. But he wasn't sure how much of it was anger and how much of it was hurt at not feeling trusted. He wanted to believe that he had known everything about her, but these past hours had proved him so very wrong. He wasn't sure where to go from here. He looked at Wynne who was watching him patiently, and sighed. He wasn't sure how to answer her.

"You knew." He finally said avoiding her question altogether. "I could tell by the way you were watching her."

"Yes," she said plainly. "I knew of her past. I was the first senior enchanter they came across when Duncan brought her into the Circle -"

"Duncan?" Alistair said in shock, his eyes widening. "Duncan took her to the tower? But how? Why!"

Wynne shook her head sadly. "That is not my story to tell. I will only tell you about when she got to the Circle, and yes, it was Duncan who brought her." Alistair wanted to ask at least a hundred more questions, something Wynn seemed to realize for she shook her head. "It will do no good to ask."

"But-"

"No." Wynne said firmly but not without kindness. "Ask Leigha."

Then she sighed again and Alistair could tell she was feeling her years. He decided he would not burden her with his questions. "Continue please."

Wynne smiled a very tired smile. "Well, as I said, Duncan brought her in and I was the first senior enchanter they came across so it was I that took her to Irving. He asked me to stay and help to decide what should be done with her. She was . . . in an awful state. I had to use magic to sedate her. In the end, it was decided that her past would be kept secret lest those intent on doing her harm find her. From what I understand, Howe did eventually show up at the Circle, but he was assured that no one matching Leigha's description was there."

"Really? No dark haired mages?" Alistair quipped before he could stop himself.

Wynne laughed. "Oh plenty of raven haired beauties in the Circle, Alistair. But even you have to admit that her eyes are . . . truly something to behold. I have yet to meet another with eyes so green."

Alistair smiled. Leigha did have amazingly beautiful eyes.

"Anyway," Wynne continued. "That's it. She stayed there in the Circle until Duncan came back for her, and . . . well you know the rest from there."

"And you wouldn't tell me anymore anyway," Alistair stated plainly.

"No. I wouldn't. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to speak with Leigha." Wynne said getting up just as slowly and taking the few steps towards her door. "Perhaps you should try to get some sleep."

"Yes, and maybe Morrigan and I will kiss and make up," Alistair quipped.

Wynne chuckled before disappearing into the room. Alistair didn't bother to get up. He knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep in the room provided to him anyway. He hadn't slept in there once since they had gotten here, and it just didn't feel right to sleep in there now. Not without her next to him. Laying his head back against the wall, he thought about what Wynne had told him. About how the mages felt when smited and about how Leigha had gotten to the Circle. Duncan. Duncan had gotten her to the Circle. But how? Had he happened across her wandering outside Highever? Or had . . . had he been at the castle? If he had, he would have known the truth about Howe, so why hadn't he said anything? Helped to bring Howe to justice? He didn't like the idea that the man he loved like a father may have kept such a monumental secret from . . . well . . . all of Ferelden. Everyone believed Howe's words that Orlais had attacked. Alistair had even heard that King Maric had gone to Orlais because of it, though he never heard the outcome of the trip.

The shadows began to grow darker as the time passed. Alistair watched as servants moved quietly down the halls like ghosts in the night, extinguishing the candles and torches. Every once in a while he would catch one of them looking curiously at him, but he would just wave them on. He had no intent of moving. Long ago, Wynne had emerged from the room, but had said nothing as she passed. Merely gave him a sympathetic smile. Soon the only light in the hall came from the glow of a nearby room with an open door. Sighing, Alistair stretched his legs out in front of him, groaning softly as his muscles stiffened. He had been sitting too long. He supposed that he should get up and move around, but he just didn't have it in him. Drawing his knees back up, he rested his elbows on them and laid his head back against the wall.

He jumped with a start as the door next to him opened and he realized he had fallen asleep. Looking up, he saw her standing there, her mouth open in surprise and her magnificent eyes wide at seeing him sitting there on the floor. He gave her a groggy smile and Leigha let out a heavy breath.

"What are you doing?" She whispered.

"Waiting for you." Alistair said simply with a shrug.

She sighed exasperatedly. "Maker's breath, Alistair! Get up!"

Reaching down, she slipped her warm hand into his and helped to pull him to his feet. He couldn't help but to groan as his sore muscles were forced to stretch more than they had in hours. Once erect, he looked down at her with a slight frown. What now? Would she send him away again? She wasn't looking at him, but down at their entwined fingers. With his free hand, he lifted her chin so that he could see her face and was startled to see that she had tears in her eyes, making them look like glistening emeralds. It was like a knife in his heart.

"Leigha," he breathed.

She threw herself into his arms without warning, and he held her, stroking her hair. "Oh Alistair, please don't ever think I don't love you!" She cried. "I do! I love you more than you could possibly know!"

Not letting go of her, he walked her backwards into her room and shut the door. Only then did he set her down and taking her face in both his hands, he lowered his head so that their eyes were level. "Leigha, I never should have suggested that you didn't love me."

She took a breath and pulled away from him, turning so that her back was to him. "I lied to you. Not only did I lie to you, I put us all in jeopardy with my reckless thirst for revenge. I know that I left you no choice but to do what you did . . . I am so very sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Alistair sighed as he walked forward and gently turned her so that she was facing him. "I can understand and forgive what you did back there. I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to have the man who murdered your entire family suddenly standing before you with no warning. I can't say I would not have reacted similarly. But . . ."

"But it was still foolish," she finished for him as she sat on the foot of the bed.

"Leigha . . . why didn't you tell me?" Alistair couldn't hold back. He began pacing in front of her. "I was completely in the dark there! You don't think that I should have known?" He stopped and looked pleadingly at her. So many things he was desperate to say, but seeing her looking so miserable . . . he held his tongue.

"I should have told you." She breathed. "I should have told you the moment you told me about your parentage . . . if not sooner. I don't know why I didn't. I'd like to be able to sit here and say that you didn't tell me about your past right away either," she gave a dry laugh at this. "But, even I know that that would be a cop out. Besides, you just left out a part. You didn't make up anything."

Alistair sighed, sitting next to her on the bed. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest. She laid her head on his shoulder. "Well now I know why you weren't angrier when you found out about me," he laughed. She only nodded in assent.

"How could I be, knowing I was hiding my own parentage? Ask me anything. I will tell you . . . everything." She whispered. "No more secrets or lies between us."

Alistair thought about this a moment. Ask her anything. He wasn't even sure of what question he should ask first. There were so many. But first . . .

"Before I ask anything, I need to apologize." He said. "I had no idea what it was like for you, for any mage, to have their mana removed. Had I known . . . I . . . I don't know. Maybe I could have found another way. I never, EVER, want to make you feel like that."

Lifting her head she looked up at him, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "I thought you weren't going to apologize . . ."

Alistair wished that he could find the same humor in it that she did, but this wasn't about pride. He wanted to protect her from harm. Any kind of harm. And the fact that he himself had been the cause of it tortured him.

"Alistair, I was joking!" She said seeing the look in his face.

"I know, love." He said. "I just . . . I'm not sorry for stopping you. I'm sorry I caused you pain. Believe me that is the last thing I ever want to cause you."

"I know," she said softly. "I assume it was Wynne who told you what it was like for us?"

"Yeah."

She only nodded. They sat in silence for a few minutes, content with just being in each other's arms, before Leigha spoke up again. "Shall I start from the beginning?"

"Yes, please," Alistair nodded, pressing his lips to her forehead. Then he added, "Only if you want to. If you're not ready . . ."

Leigha thought for a moment before answering softly. "I am. I want you to know everything, Alistair. But . . . why don't we get in bed where it's comfortable. It's a long story."

"Just try and stop me," Alistair laughed.

It didn't take either of them very long to strip off their clothes. After placing his belongings on the nearby vanity, Alistair turned around and was stopped short, his breath catching in his throat. Leigha had removed _everything_. And while he had seen her bare body before, several times, there was something different about her this time. Her raven locks seemed wildly untamed as they blanketed her shoulders giving her an exotic look. Her already perfectly rounded breasts looked, if possible, fuller and her perfectly sculpted body drew his eyes downward to her stomach and on to the soft dark nest of downy curls that was her womanhood. She was flawless. Meeting her eyes once more, he saw they were ablaze with an emerald fire that stilled his heart. He couldn't help wonder if she was aware of the soft blue glow that radiated from her. Leigha smiled and he nearly melted. Her full velvety lips looked so succulent. He felt like a fool just standing there in his small clothes staring at her, but she was so stunning that he couldn't look away.

Her smile faltered. "What's wrong?"

He only shook his head, mesmerized by the sight of her. Nervous at the idea that he would soon be lying next to her, touching her. He was acting ridiculous! How many times had they slept together now? How many times had he touched her? Why was it as if it were the first time he was seeing her?

"Alistair?" She was concerned, and he swallowed hard, finding his voice.

"I . . . am a lucky man," he breathed. A faint blush painted her cheeks as she smiled, and he nearly lost it. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" She asked perplexed.

"Glow!" He said with exasperation. "Your actually glowing!"

"I am?" She asked surprised, and Alistair laughed as he nodded. "I don't know." She shrugged. "Maybe . . . maybe it's because I'm excited that I'm finally about to tell you everything about me. That I don't have to hide who I am any longer." He watched as she practically floated to bed, turned down the linens, and got in. "Coming?"

Jumping, he moved quickly forward and as a last minute decision removed his small clothes before getting into bed next to her. Lying back, he rolled onto his side facing her and propped himself up on his elbow. He smiled as she did the same. The blanket stopped at her waist, and he found himself once more captivated by her voluptuous breasts. Reaching tentatively forward, he traced a finger along her neck, down her chest and to the tip of her erect peaks. He lingered there before moving his hand down further and grabbing the blanket, pulled it up to cover her. She met his eyes, her brow cocked.

"I want to be able to pay attention to you," he smiled, feeling his cheeks grow hot. She laughed as he continued, "So from the beginning then?"

"Yes." She sighed, the laughter gone as quickly as it had come. And then she began . . .

"As you already know now, I was born in Highever to Bryce and Eleanor Cousland – the Teyrn and Teryness. I had a normal upbringing, just as any other noble child, but when I turned seven I showed my first signs of magical ability. I had turned my hair blue."

"Blue?" Alistair cut in with a laugh trying to imagine it.

"Yes," she laughed as well. "And not some dark blue or blue highlights, mind you . . . but the whole thing a lovely sky blue."

Alistair laughed harder at this and Leigha shoved him, still laughing. "Shut up! It looked good!"

"So I imagine," he chortled.

"_Anyways_," She went on. "My family had never held the same beliefs about mages and magic as the rest of Ferelden does. They did not fear it, and they were not about to send me away to the Circle. They felt the tower was a punishment and I had done nothing wrong. But I still had to be hidden as others did not hold the same views they did. They constantly worried someone might turn me in to the templar's. So for the first couple of years, I was sick . . . _a lot_ . . . when we had company. They feared I might cast magic accidentally, you see. When I was nine they employed an old apostate mage to teach me. In return, he would be given shelter from the templar's, no longer having to run.

"Aldous taught me everything he could, and soon I learned to control my magic. In time, my illnesses miraculously 'got better' and was allowed to join in the festivities that the castle held. I had gotten so good at hiding my magic that I was even allowed to walk around the town without an escort. One of the visitors my father had more than anyone else was Rendon Howe, the Arl of Amaranthine. They had fought together at the battle of White River and afterwards they had become close friends. Best friends even. He had even become like an uncle to me and Fergus. And more than once he would mention that perhaps someday his son Thomas and I would unite the family properly." Leigha rolled her eyes at this. "Thomas was an ass. I'd have rather become a cloistered sister then marry him."

Alistair laughed. "That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea," she said with a shake of her head. "Anyway, life really was pretty normal for me, even as an 'apostate'. My family loved me and I loved them. We were all . . . very close. Then three days after my fourteenth birthday . . . everything . . . everything changed." Leigha had to pause and take a deep breath before beginning again. Alistair waited, letting her take her time. He knew how hard this would be for her.

"It's been ten years, and still I remember it as if it had happened just yesterday." She whispered. "I can still smell the flowers in bloom. I can feel the sun on my face as I sat in a tree and watched my father and Howe greet a strange man I had never seen before. And I can still hear the barking of Fergus's mabari as Nan chased him from the kitchen. I had followed my father and his guests into the main hall, curious as to whom this mystery man was. When my father saw me, he greeted me with a smile and a hug before introducing me to who he called a Grey Warden by the name of Duncan."

At this Alistair stiffened, and Leigha stopped, peering up at him. So he _had_ been at the castle when it was attacked, Alistair thought. He wasn't sure how he felt about this.

"Wynne told me that she told you it was Duncan who brought me to the Circle," Leigha said softly, and Alistair nodded in assent. "I'm sorry I did not tell you that sooner as well."

In response, Alistair reached forward and cupped her neck, stroking her jaw line with his thumb and bringing his lips to her forehead. "I understand why you didn't."

She sighed and sat up, her back pressed against the head board. She drew her knees to her chest hugging them, and Alistair looked up at her confused. When she only shook her head, Alistair pushed himself up a little higher with his arm and stroked her leg comfortingly with his free hand. She grasped his hand in hers and brought it to her lips, before lacing her fingers through his and laying it in her lap. She did not let go.

"Duncan was there on behalf of the Grey Wardens, looking to test and recruit the captain of our guard, Ser Gilmore. I remember that for some reason, Howe did not look pleased to see the grey warden. I would find out why later," she spit angrily. Alistair could feel her hand shaking in his and he gave her a gentle encouraging squeeze. "I woke to the battle. Scared and unsure of what was going on, I ran to Fergus's room where . . . where I found him . . . dead. I had screamed and . . . and . . . by doing so, I had alerted Howe's men in another room. It was the first time I had ever used my magic defensively. It was also the first time I had killed a man," she whispered.

Alistair could feel her whole body shaking now, and he sat up. Gently removing his hand from hers, he wrapped his arm around her pulling her in tight. He hated that she was reliving this, but he knew that if he asked her to stop, she wouldn't. She wanted him to know, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't curious. So he did the only thing he could do; he held her, trying to comfort her as she continued. The rage and tortured angst in her voice killed him, but he kept quiet, silently vowing to help her get the revenge she deserved. Had he known all this sooner, he may have let her kill the treacherous man.

"There were two of them," she went on. "And they were advancing on me with their blades drawn. Trying to get away from them, I tripped over Fergus and fell to the ground. It was then that Harlen, Fergus's mabari, came charging in from Maker knows where, and took down one of the men. The other man paused only briefly at the sight of his comrade's throat being ripped away, before turning to strike me down. I . . . I lit him on fire. I can still smell his burning flesh and hear his screaming." She shuddered in his arms.

"The first person you kill is always the one that stays with you forever," Alistair sighed, rubbing her arm to soothe the goose bumps that had crept along her skin. "No matter how many you kill afterwards. And you, being so young at the time . . . I'm sorry, love."

Leigha nodded. "I sat there and cried afterwards, unsure of what to do. Harlen came and mourned Fergus with me, but after a small amount of time had passed, he nudged me to my feet and out the door. He stayed with me as I searched for my parents, charging down men who aimed to kill. It seemed like . . . like everyone I knew at the castle laid slain on the ground – the cobblestones now a red river of blood. It wasn't until I reached the main hall that I was apprehended. Harlen was knocked unconscious, by what I'm not sure . . . but I think it may have been a maul to the head. It was also there that I found my parents, as well as Howe. My parents were bound and gagged and I froze in my shock, unable to do anything. Unable to cast. I . . . I feel I failed my parents in that moment."

Suddenly the keeper of the sacred ashes words made sense to Alistair. He had asked if Leigha felt she failed those she loved, and had nearly brought her to tears. He remembered being so confused, but when he asked her about it later she had smoothly changed the subject with sex.

Pressing his lips to her head, he whispered, "Darling, you were fourteen and scared. I think they understood. You didn't fail them."

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and smiled weakly. He knew that she took no comfort in his words. Just as Duncan's death would weigh forever on him, her parents would weigh forever on her. It was then that he remembered Duncan. Where was he during all of this? As if sensing his question, she continued.

"Binding me, he had me watch as he murdered my parents." She said, her voice shaking with rage. "He had meant for my father to watch my mother and I die first, but after killing my mother, and seeing how it tortured my father to have me witness that, Howe realized that it would hurt my father more by making me watch as they tortured him to death. After . . . after my father lay dead, it was like a spark ignited inside of me. But it wasn't until after Howe _offered_ me to his men, that I blew. The magic that I had been unable to cast earlier exploded from my body, wild and uncontrollable. It was so forceful, the main hall caved in upon Howe and his men, somehow missing me. The dust had not settled when he emerged wide eyed, with a large stone piercing his cheek and his blade drawn. He intended to kill me, and I was ready for the blow . . . wishing for death . . . when Duncan appeared and knocked him unconscious with the pommel of his sword. He would later tell me that it was not his place to kill Howe as that right belonged to me and me alone. He would also later apologize for arriving too late. He had gotten held up by Howe's men. After that, he took me to the Circle insisting it was the safest place for me at the time, and well . . . Wynne told you the rest."

And so it was that her story came to an end. Alistair sat there holding Leigha as she wept, imagining a hundred graphic ways that Howe could die. He knew now why she had never told him. Who would ever want to relive something like that? He imagined he would want to bury it as well. Soon she stopped crying and looked up at him, her amazing eyes shining.

"I'm so sorry you had to live through that," he whispered, smoothing her hair back out of her face. "So do you know why he did it?"

She shook her head, "No, I never did find out. I assume it's just cause he's a greedy bastard who wanted Highever for himself, but who knows. The big thing is that I did just what you said, right? That I lived? So many times I wanted to give up."

Alistair smiled, "Well I'm glad you didn't give up. Thank you for telling me this."

"I really am sorry I didn't tell you sooner," Leigha whispered, taking his face in her hand and stroking his cheek with her thumb. He didn't fail to notice that her lips had moved closer to his, her nose grazing his softly. "I guess . . . I guess part of me didn't want you knowing. Or maybe I . . . I didn't want to relive it."

"It's okay," he smiled, leaning toward her . . . his lips less than an inch from her own. "I can understand that. It is a horrible thing to relive."

"Yes, well . . ." She whispered, dropping her hand to his neck and cupping it as she pulled herself up over him slightly. "I'm relieved that you know now. All this time I was afraid of how you would react . . . I was afraid for nothing. I should have known you'd be so understanding about it. So . . . wonderful. Perhaps I can show you how grateful I am?"

He couldn't take it anymore. She had braced herself above him, her bare breast gliding teasingly across his chest. Taking her face in his hands, he pressed his mouth fully against her plush velvety lips. He was aware of both her tongue in his mouth as she kissed him forcefully and her leg as she swept it over him, straddling his lap. His arms moved to her waist, holding her tightly as she locked her fingers around his neck and pressed her body firmly against his, their kiss growing with fervor. They were pawing at each other like teenage kids, unable to get enough. He slid his hands eagerly along her sides, reveling in the feel of her silken skin under his calloused fingers and the moist petal-soft folds of her womanhood caressing his loins. It didn't take long before he felt his flesh become engorged with each stroke her body gave him, and he moaned softly as she worked her lips down to his neck and nibbled his collar bone.

Looking up at him she smiled seductively, grinding her hips against his throbbing and eager member. He completely lost it then. Bracing her back, he flipped her over and blanketed her body with his own as he nuzzled her neck. Pulling back, he met her eyes. Those eyes. So beautiful and intense.

"Tell me," Leigha whispered pleadingly.

"I love you," he whispered in return.

Alistair was mesmerized by the sudden blue glow that engulfed them both. Never before had that happened and he wasn't sure how to take it. He looked at his luminated hand curiously before looking to Leigha. She was smiling.

"No more secrets," she whispered.

"None." He concurred.

Leaning down, he kissed her lips, eyes, and jaw line. She in turn lifted her hips, greeting his hungry desire with her own and Alistair quickly forgot about the blue glow around them though it stayed with them through the night. He forgot about Howe and Loghain. And he no longer worried about being king or the story Leigha had just told him of her past. Even the Blight failed to exist in this moment. It didn't matter. None of it did. He was here with her and that was all he wanted. Right now, it was the only thing of importance. Tomorrow they would go back to worrying and planning and plotting.

But tonight . . . they tuned out the world.


End file.
